Wanted (A Private Investigator Series of Crime and Suspense Thrillers, Book 1)

by Nick Stephenson

  “Get ready.” He put his hand on Sophie’s shoulder.

  “For what?”

  The door flew open. Leopold saw a sinewy figure stride toward them, obscured by the shadows. His fists clenched tight, he waited for the right moment. He could make out the figure’s face in the dull light. A face he recognized.

  “Mary?” He stepped forward. “What the hell took you so long?”

  Mary whipped around. “Dammit, don’t do that,” she snapped. “It’s bad enough I’ve got to find my way around this creepy place in the dark. I don’t need people jumping out of the shadows at me.”

  Leopold raised his palms. “Okay, okay. Can you get us out of here?”

  “There’s an old access hatch that leads up to street level, just across the other side of the parking lot. The lock was practically rusted off. We should be able to get out onto the main road without being spotted. Assuming the police haven’t decided to broaden their search perimeter, that is.”

  “As far as they know we’re still running around inside the station. But they’ll figure it out eventually.”

  “We’d better get going then.” She paused, glancing down at Sophie. “Who’s this?”

  “Mary Jordan, meet Sophie Bardot,” said Leopold, helping the art restorer to her feet. “I’m sure you’ll get along just fine.”

  “Save the pleasantries for later,” said Mary, looking Sophie up and down. “Follow me.”

  Setting at a brisk pace, the NYPD sergeant led the way through into the gloomy parking lot. “Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?” she asked, not breaking her stride. “And what happened to Jerome?”

  “It’s a long story,” said Leopold.

  “Then tell it quickly.”

  “I was hired to consult for the Louvre. While I was there, I discovered a major security flaw and informed the art director. Jerome and I left to speak with Mademoiselle Bardot, which is when I got the call.”

  “What call?”

  “The art director was murdered shortly after we left the museum. The police got hold of my cell phone number and asked me down to the station.”

  “Jesus, Leopold, what are you getting me into? And why the hell did you bring her along?”

  “She insisted.”

  Mary shook her head. “You’re kidding me. Where do you find these people?”

  “We were taken into an interview room,” Leopold continued, ignoring her. “They told us a fingerprint had been found near the murder scene. My fingerprint. You can figure out the rest.”

  “So this is a frame job?”

  “Looks like it.”

  “But why?”

  “That’s what we need to figure out,” said Leopold. “I’ll need you to pull some favors. Think you can do that without raising any red flags?”

  “If I act fast, sure.”

  He nudged Mary as they walked. “Just like old times.”

  “Don’t get cute.”

  “Excusez-moi,” said Sophie. “Can we do this later? I want answers too, don’t forget that.”

  “Just let me handle this,” said Mary. “Keep close behind and try to stay quiet.”

  “Let’s just try to keep this civil, shall we?” said Leopold.

  “Don’t talk to me about civil; I’m not the one bossing everyone around,” said Sophie. “Why should I have to listen to her?”

  “Shh.” Mary hissed, stopping in her tracks. “Keep still and don’t make a sound.”

  “Why?”

  Mary’s gaze locked onto something. Something Leopold couldn’t make out.

  “There’s someone else here.”

  Chapter 21

  REINIGER TIGHTENED HIS grip on his firearm, his index finger brushing the trigger. In the cool darkness of the subterranean parking lot, the assassin watched his quarry approach. It had been too easy to follow the lady cop. She hadn’t even been paying attention. But now something seemed to have caught her eye.

  Holding his position, Reiniger reminded himself that the human eye was nowhere near sensitive enough to pick out his shape in the shadows. Still twenty feet away, Reiniger calculated his targets’ angle of escape was too wide for him to cover properly with the handgun. The chances of one or more of them diving for cover was too high, and Reiniger didn’t relish the thought of chasing anyone around in the dark.

  He shifted his gaze toward Blake and saw him take a step backward. The cop didn’t move a muscle. The assassin felt his pulse quicken, felt the adrenaline kick in.

  Time to move.

  He surged forward, gun raised. “This is not the time to consider running.” His voice was calm and authoritative. “This can be over quickly and painlessly. Or, I can take my time with you. The choice is yours.”

  No reply.

  “Please, step out from behind Mr. Blake.” The assassin waved a gloved hand, beckoning the younger woman forward.

  “Sophie, stay where you are,” the cop said. “He needs us to spread out so he can kill us quicker. He knows he doesn’t have time to take any chances.”

  The bitch was right. Reiniger decided to kill her first. He pointed the gun at the cop’s forehead and squeezed the trigger. He felt the hammer cock.

  “Ne bougez pas!” A voice from behind. A flurry of heavy footsteps.

  The assassin whipped around and dropped to his knees, targeting the three armed police officers advancing across the empty lot. He brought the pistol up and fired a double tap, aiming for center mass. The rounds hit home, knocking the nearest target on his back, unconscious.

  With a split second of purchased time, Reiniger considered his options. The response team would call for backup soon, if they hadn’t already, and more armed police were only seconds away. With more guns and body armor. The assassin knew he had only two choices – either kill Blake and the others and almost certainly be gunned down himself, or retreat. The latter option seemed preferable.

  Instinct taking over, Reiniger dove behind a concrete pillar as the sound of gunfire erupted behind him. Peering into the gloom, Reiniger scanned the area for movement. A muzzle flash sent him ducking back for cover a split second before the bullet tore into the space where his head had been. The impact sent up a tiny plume of dust. A second and third shot kept him pinned. He knew the tactic well – the shooter’s partner would be moving in for the kill, relying on his teammate to provide a distraction.

  Big mistake.

  Reiniger ducked to the side as another staccato flash lit up the parking lot. He closed his eyes and concentrated, listening for any sign of approach. Another shot, and the sound of bullets ricocheting off the walls. In between flashes the sound of heavy soles falling lightly on the ground.

  Another shot.

  Another flash.

  Reiniger heard the scuffle again and tensed, his target no more than a couple of feet away. With the pistol still in his hand, the assassin stepped out from behind the pillar and attacked. Before the cop could react, Reiniger thrust the butt of his gun into the man’s throat and felt something crunch.

  Another shot came from behind and the cop’s knees buckled. Reiniger angled his gun and squeezed the trigger, sending a round straight through the man’s skull. The bullet passed through the cop’s helmet and out the other side, lost in the darkness. The officer crumpled to the floor and Reiniger pressed his back against the column, out of sight.

  As the next gunshot came and went, the assassin ducked out from behind the pillar. The gray outline of the remaining police officer was unmistakable, even in the low light. Reiniger fired two rapid shots to the man’s chest. He went down hard. Reiniger scanned the parking lot for any sign of backup before turning to the spot where Blake and the others had stood moments earlier.

  They were gone.

  Chapter 22

  “KEEP MOVING!”

  Leopold felt Mary’s hand on his back, pushing him forward. He grunted from the pain radiating from his shoulder and stumbled, his vision beginning to blur. The harsh neons that lit up the deserted corrido
rs made him feel nauseous, so he took a moment to lean up against the wall and catch his breath.

  “What’s wrong? We need to get out of here,” said Mary, tugging at his sleeve. “Whoever’s still alive down there is going to be coming for us.”

  “Just give me a minute,” he said, clutching his shoulder.

  “What happened?” Mary took his hand and pulled it away. “Jesus!”

  Blake stared down at his hand. It was slick with blood.

  “He’s been shot. We have to get him to a hospital,” said Sophie.

  “That’s not going to happen,” said Mary. “If we show up with a bullet wound, they’ll call the police. We need to get somewhere safe. I can stitch him up if the injury is clean enough.” She pulled Leopold forward. “It just looks like a graze. Nothing a few stitches can’t fix. All things considered, you’re pretty lucky.”

  “Great, that makes me feel much better.”

  “Don’t be such a baby. Can you walk?”

  He nodded.

  “Good. You got any idea in that big brain of yours where we might be able to hide out while we get this mess sorted out?”

  Leopold blinked hard and felt his vision start to clear. “Give me your cell phone.”

  Mary passed the handset over. “This isn’t the time to be making calls.”

  “Just give me a minute.” He accessed the unit’s internet browser and punched in a web address. “My company owns property in Paris, but I need to check where.” He logged into the Blake Investments secure server and loaded up the files he needed. “We’ve got a shareholding in a small tenement building along the Champs-Élysées. Looks like we’ve rented most of the apartments out to the office workers, but there look to be a few that are unoccupied.” He looked up. “You know, layoffs.”

  “Can you find out which ones are empty?”

  “Not from this.” He paused. “But I’ve got a contact in one of the legal departments we can use. He heads up the commercial property division.”

  “And he can get this information for us now?”

  “Should be fine. He’s been begging for a raise for months.” Leopold smiled and handed back the phone. “I’ve just sent him an email. We should hear back soon. In the meantime, we can head in that direction.”

  Sophie leaned in, a look of concern in her eyes. “Can you make it that far in your condition?”

  He caught the scent of her perfume again, intensified by her elevated body temperature. The smell jostled something in his nerves, making his skin tingle. His shoulder throbbed in protest and Leopold snapped out of his daze. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I? The police will be preoccupied with whoever the hell it was that just killed those cops, so that gives us a small window of opportunity. Is there another way out of here?”

  “The alleyway behind the building is fenced off from the main road,” said Mary. “I doubt anyone’s going to be searching there for a while.”

  “How do we get there?” asked Sophie.

  “There’s only one way down. We’re going to have to open a window and jump.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” said Leopold. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’ve been shot. I’m hardly in any condition to be jumping from anywhere.”

  “Man up a little. Just tuck and roll when you hit the floor and try to land on your good shoulder. It’s either that or we get the prison doctor to stitch you up.”

  “Have I ever told you how much I miss these conversations?”

  Mary shot him a look.

  “Fine, okay, so we’re jumping for it. Any idea which direction we need to go?”

  “The west side of the building faces out to the alleyway,” she replied, examining her cell phone’s compass application. “Which is in this direction.” She stalked off toward one of the empty offices at the other end of the corridor. “Try to keep up.”

  Leopold looked up at Sophie, who held out her hand.

  “Better do as she says, non?”

  He nodded. “Just try not to use me to break your fall. I’m feeling a little fragile.”

  She smiled and helped him back onto his feet and they set off in pursuit of Mary, who had disappeared into the empty office beyond. They rounded the corner and Leopold spotted her wrestling with one of the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the street outside.

  “Here, give me a hand with this.”

  Between the three of them, they managed to wrench the large panel open, letting in the cool night air and the rumbling sounds of the city. Leopold looked down.

  “We’re a good twenty feet up,” he said, turning to Sophie. “If we land properly, there shouldn’t be any problem.”

  “And how do we do that?”

  “Keep your feet and knees together to avoid twisting an ankle. Bend your legs but keep them firmly stiff. As soon as your feet touch the ground, collapse into a roll on one side. That will absorb most of the impact force and stop you from shattering your ankles.”

  Sophie nodded, clearly not convinced.

  “Don’t worry, you’ll be just fine,” he said, putting his hand on her shoulder and leaving a rusty smudge of blood on her jacket. “Sorry.” He pulled his hand away.

  “So, are we heading for the car?”

  “That’s not an option,” said Mary. “The police have the roads blocked off. Thankfully, there’s quite a crowd forming outside, so if we can get through to the other side of the alleyway, there’s a chance we can slip through unnoticed while they’re preoccupied. If we don’t get stopped, we can make our way on foot from there until we can flag down a taxi. How far is the apartment?”

  “About three miles north of here,” said Leopold. “Assuming I don’t pass out on the way, we should be able to make it.”

  “Is he always like this?” asked Sophie.

  Mary sighed and nodded. “Comes with the territory, I’m afraid.” She turned to Leopold. “Time to get moving. After you.” She gestured toward the open window.

  “I guess I had that coming.” He clutched his injured shoulder. Stepping forward, Leopold looked out of the window to the dark alley floor. Taking a deep breath, he clambered out into the night, one leg either side of the frame, and got ready for the jump. Despite the fears and uncertainties that played on his mind, he had no doubts about one thing – this was going to hurt like hell.

  Chapter 23

  THE ENVIRONMENTAL CONTROLS onboard The Thanatos were designed to simulate the passing of night and day. With most of the crew below deck and without access to natural light, the systems helped keep everyone’s circadian rhythm synchronized.

  James Cullen’s quarters were housed near the center of the ship, where the movements of the waves were less disruptive. The senior operative lay on his bed, reading a book on his tablet computer. Inside the room, the temperature and lighting controls were set to night-time and the ship’s clock reminded him it was too late to still be awake. As he leaned over to turn out the lights, a gentle knock at the door made him look up.

  “Come in.”

  The door slid open and Rose stepped through, dressed in tight jeans and a fitted tee. She was carrying a laptop under one arm.

  “It’s a little late for social calls,” said James, sitting up.

  “Sorry, boss. I had something I needed to show you.”

  He patted the mattress and she took a seat next to him. Even in the low light, she looked stunning – the snug fabric of her clothes accentuating all the right places.

  “What is it?” he asked, catching the scent of her perfume.

  “You got anything to drink?”

  He nodded toward the chest of drawers against the far wall. “There’s a bottle of Mount Gay in there and some glasses.”

  Rose set the laptop on the bed and fetched the rum. She poured two measures of the amber liquor and handed one to James. They both took a sip.

  “Cheers,” she said, and they clinked glasses.

  “So what did you have to show me that requires a toast?”

  “I would
n’t say we needed to toast anything, I was just desperate for a drink.” She smiled. “Although I do have some more dirt on this Blake guy. Wanna see?”

  James raised his glass in the affirmative.

  “Here, take a look at this.” She opened the laptop and the system sprang into life. “According to the records I pulled from the European Business Register, Blake’s company has been buying up dying corporations throughout the EU, especially in the west. They strip the businesses down to the bone, selling off everything until the company is essentially just a name on a piece of paper.”

  James leaned forward. “This guy just gets more and more interesting, doesn’t he?”

  “After that, the trail went cold. So I asked one of the guys in the programming lab to follow the money trail and look where it led.” She pointed to something on the screen.

  “What the hell is that?”

  “Something Blake Industries wanted to keep off the books. Some kind of research facility, apparently set up under the guise of a non-profit.”

  “They went to a lot of trouble to hide this.”

  “Understatement of the year. With over a dozen parent companies and umbrella corporations, you’d need to know exactly where to look to even find a mention of these guys.”

  “And Blake kept his name out of it?”

  “Yeah, look at this.” She scrolled through the document. “A few years ago he resigned as director and appointed a trustee to run everything for him. He even gave up all the voting rights his shares carried. For all intents and purposes, he has absolutely zero legal liability for this place.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “Meaning if anyone starts sniffing around, he has plausible deniability.”

  “I’m starting to see what the Director sees in this guy.” He finished his drink, feeling the warmth spread through his chest. “What did you tell your friend?”

  “Huh?”